


A Kiss from a Handsome… Mafia Boss

by Jade_Dragoness



Series: Meddling Fairy Godmother [1]
Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Curses, First Date, First Kiss, M/M, Written Post-Turn Coat, Written Pre-Ghost Story, fairy godmother - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:14:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fairy godmothers are a freaking pain!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you beachkid for not only the beta but also for making the fic better! Based on Cliché_Bingo Card Slot #3 - Fairy Tales & Folklore

“What do you mean you‘ve been cursed by your fairy godmother?” The incredulity and wide-eyed expression on Murphy’s face were cute. The smile and twitching corners of her lips were less so.

“Come on, Murph. This is serious,” I said. My voice may have come out a little whinier than usual, but I’ll deny it to my last breath.

She just smirked.

“Until I break the curse I can‘t use my magic,” I said soberly. I ran my fingers through my hair and resisted the urge to yank. If I did that every time I was frustrated with my life, I’d be bald by now. Of course, with the scars across my face, I’d probably look badass. Or like a starving, battered, hairless scarecrow. Whatever.

The humor drained from Murphy’s face. “The curse is that serious?”

I nodded. “And without my magic, I‘m a sitting duck.” I made a duck bill with my hand like I was making a shadow puppet. “Quack, quack.”

If it got out that I didn’t have my magic, everyone and everything that wanted a piece of me would come out of the woodwork in order to get a bite of Dresden Pie. It was not my life’s ambition to end up as some monster’s dessert, or even the main course.

“Why would she do that to you?” she asked, frowning. “Didn‘t you tell me once that she was concerned about protecting you?”

“Yeah, she wanted to keep me safe… by turning me into one of her hounds,” I grumbled. I took a swallow of Mac‘s dark beer and sighed. That situation wasn’t exactly one I considered safe. Sure, it would have kept me from being killed, but then I would have been a dog for the rest of my life. I won’t even go into how I managed to wiggle out of that. I’ll be here forever.

“How did she get close enough to do this to you?” Murphy asked, after taking a drink from her own bottle.

Murphy, more than most people, knew I didn’t let down my guard easily, especially not around magical beings like the fae. That the Lenansidhe is my fairy godmother is no reason to relax.

“She has a tie to me. Even with Mab taking the debt I owed on herself. Lea has a channel to me that has nothing to do with that and everything to do with the fact that she‘s my godmother,” I explained. “What really worries me is that she isn‘t doing this for giggles. She has a point she‘s making. Only I have no idea what it is or why she‘s doing it.”

Now that was what really had me running scared, for a reasons other than not being able to protect myself when the monsters came after my ass. My fairy godmother, the Leanansidhe, is one of the toughest Sidhe around. Once, I would have said she was on par with the Queen of the Winter Court. Now, I knew she wasn’t in her weight class; yet she was still stronger than the Lady of Winter, the youngest of the Winter queens, and therefore the only being in the Winter Court that could come the closest to challenging Mab in terms of power. She had tried that, and gotten herself locked up for her troubles. Then sometime this year, she’d been freed.

And one of the first things she’d chosen to do was to tie my magic up with a freaking fae curse.

The only positive thing going for me was that she wasn’t trying to get me killed, at least not on purpose. According to Bob, my aura was normal. My status as a magus was still visible for anyone that cared to look with their Sight, and I was giving off that tingle of power that would give me away to any practitioner. I just couldn’t access any of it. Not even enough to light the candles in my apartment.

I live in a basement apartment, without any electrical light because light bulbs don‘t last more than a handful of days around me. This was big problem.

“So, how do you break it?”

“The curse?” I asked.

“What else are you looking to break, Harry?” Murphy asked, rolling her eyes.

“Well, the head of my fairy godmother seems a rather attractive target right now,” I said, grumpily.

Murphy grinned, “I’ll never get over the fact that you have a fairy godmother. So, where‘s the handsome prince that‘s going to sweep you off your feet?”

I blinked rapidly, then slapped my face with my hands and groaned.

“What is it?”

“It can‘t possibly be that? Can it?” I asked myself. Dread was already making my guts cold.

“Harry,” Murphy said, impatiently.

I looked at her. “A kiss to break a curse. There‘s a reason that it’s the traditional fairytale cure-all. You remember when Jenny Greenteeth went after Georgia and Billy.” Murphy nodded. I sighed in irritation, “The fae have entirely too much interest in kissing.”

Now Murphy’s smile was wide and her eyes were actually twinkling. Twinkling, of all things.

“You need to find a prince to kiss you?” she asked. The glee in her voice was entirely unnecessary.

I gave her an exasperated look. “Come on, Murph. I doubt it‘s that literal.”

“Just as well,” Murphy said, still grinning. “I think there‘s a real dearth of princes in Chicago.”  
*-*-*-*

“I think that the Sergeant has the right idea, boss,” Bob said.

I looked up from the book on curse breaking that I’d been flipping through, hoping to find a cure to my own situation. With no such luck, might I add.

“Well, kind of the right idea,” Bob continued. “There aren‘t exactly a lot of royalty hanging around in modern day Chicago. Now, New York probably has a few. But I think the Big Apple has one of everything, considering its population and reputation… ooh, think about the strip joints alone!”

I rubbed my face with my hand and sighed. “Bob, I‘m not really in the mood. Explain what you mean about Murph having the right idea, would you?”

Bob’s skull eyes, really more like orange lights, brightened. “The fae curse that your fairy godmother put on you has the usual standard clause to break it. Only the idea of what can be considered royalty in this day and age has shifted around than what it used to was back in the good old Dark Ages.”

I frowned. Bob kept track of the ways that the rules of magic changed. Using his knowledge helped me a lot in figuring out how spells could be made. But this was a new one. “What do you mean, Bob?”

“Most of those old fairytales came from countries that had royalty, which had noble bloodlines. They’re used to them. Their royals are part of their collective cultural background. But this country hasn‘t had a king or queen since its current inception. So, the concept of nobility here is more tied to wealth and status than to bloodlines. For the most part.”

“So, I need to find someone who‘s wealthy and famous and then somehow convince them to kiss me?” I asked, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Not quite, boss,” Bob said. “Being wealthy isn‘t enough. They have to have power. Real power.”

“Magical power?” I asked. Several people came to mind.

“No,” Bob answered, with a shake of his skull. “Actually, having any kind of arcane power would be detrimental. In those old-school fairytales, the royal is always a regular human. It has to be the kind of power that involves having an effect over the lives of people, like a politician or a CEO. If you knew a Kennedy that‘d solve your problem. Or even a former president.”

I snorted. My life was never so easy. “So,” I said slowly, “I need to convince a powerful, famous, wealthy and vanilla normal mortal to kiss me in order to get my magic back?”

“That‘s right!” Bob said cheerfully. “With full on tongue action! And I’d stick to a male, just in case you’re supposed to be the fairytale princess in this scenario. You know, just to be on the safe side.”

I glared at Bob. “Princess?” I asked indignantly. I was not the princess. No matter what story you stuck me in, dammit. I was a wizard! I had the large staff and everything!

Spare me the compensation jokes, please.

“Hey! Think that you could break the curse in front of me?” Bob asked, ignoring my glower. His eyes became even brighter with his excitement.

“No!”

“Aw, I‘m just asking for research purposes,” Bob said sulkily. He pouted surprisingly well for a skull without lips.

I rolled my eyes. Then I thought about what this information meant for being able to get my magic back any time soon. I was drawing a blank on who I knew that fit those parameters.

“Come on, Harry! I won‘t even ask for new romances for a month!”

“Stars and stones, Bob, I don‘t even have a clue to who to ask for that kind of favor. I’m not ready to deal with you too,” I groaned.

“You‘re kidding right?” Bob said, his eyes blinking at me.

“Kidding? Why would I be kidding?” I asked, looking at him in surprise. This was about getting my magic back. Of course I wasn’t kidding around.

“Because you do know someone who fits all those parameters,” Bob said. “And I’d bet a stack of porn that he‘d do it, too!”

“Who?” I asked, trying to figure out who in the world Bob could be talking about. Then an awful suspicion made my stomach drop down around my knees. I did know one man who fit all the requirements that the curse needed to be broken: he was wealthly, powerful, downright infamous and was as mundane on the magical power scale as Mister. Hell, probably lower. After all, Mister was a cat.

“…Stars and _stones_ ,” I groaned, “don‘t tell me you‘re talking about John Marcone.”

“Okay,” Bob said, leering. “I won‘t tell you.”

I cursed some more. Then I considered how completely vulnerable I was without my magic and how terrible I felt without the hum of it under my skin, without that effervescent energy that was so much a part of all that was good in my life. I groaned in disgust and despair. The lack of it alone would kill me even if a monster didn’t manage to get to me first.

“Damn, damn, damn,” I said as I pressed my hand over my eyes. I should have blocked my ears instead because then I’d have blocked out Bob’s snickering.

I sighed in annoyance.  
*-*-*-*

“Mr. Dresden, I can‘t say that I‘m pleased to see you, as I would prefer if my building wasn‘t set on fire today,” Marcone said coolly. He was in that his office on the floor above Executive Priority, the one that looked more like a professor’s study than that of a criminal kingpin. It was stacked with filing cabinets and books. Marcone had gotten enough warning of my arrival that the computer on the walnut wood desk was turned off and disconnected from the electrical outlet.

I wasn’t able to resist glaring at him for his smart-assed comment. That was my shtick, dammit.

Okay, so Marcone did have a point about the property damage. I just wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of saying so. Hendricks glowered right back at me from Marcone’s side, looking not at all pleased that I was giving his boss the stink-eye. Surprisingly, Gard was nowhere to be found. Huh, probably off on another one of the days off she got once in a while.

Marcone gestured to the seat in front of his desk and I reluctantly sat down. Hendricks moved off from his boss’ side over to door. The skin on the back of my neck prickled. It was a struggle, but I managed to smooth out my expression before I bit out. “I need a favor.”

Yeah, I could feel a portion of my soul wither away at those words, never mind the nasty aftertaste they left in my mouth.

Marcone’s eyebrows arched up. “A favor?” Marcone asked, the corners of his old dollar bill green eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. “What kind of favor can _I_ do for you, Mr. Dresden?” He tilted his head slight as he looked me over.

No doubt, he was trying to figure out what my angle was in coming to him. It wasn’t something I was known for, after all. I didn’t like the idea of getting into debt with him and he _knew_ that, but here I was.

I squirmed for a moment. Then I shot Hendricks an annoyed look before asking Marcone, “I don’t suppose I can talk to you alone?” Hendricks’ expression grew darker. Marcone just looked at me calmly. Yup, no chance in hell. “I didn‘t think so,” I sighed. So, I braced myself and just blurted it out. “I need you to kiss me.”

Marcone blinked once before his eyes widened slightly. Which, admittedly for Marcone was the equivalent of a full out jaw drop. Hendricks made a low choking noise before coughing furiously. I ignored him and kept my eyes on Marcone, though I could feel my cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

“It isn‘t what you think,” I said quickly. And Stars, I didn‘t even want to know what Marcone thought it was. “I need it to break a spell.”

Marcone leaned back on his expensive-looking chair, steepled his hands and asked mildly, “What sort of spell - I assume that it’s a curse - requires that I kiss you?”

“Stars and stones, I hate this,” I muttered under my breath. I once again debated whether this was actually worth it. Then I remembered that I’d rather be in debilitating pain for the rest of my life than lose my magic. That at one point I had decided that I would rather risk being subjugated by a freaking Fallen angel than give up being a wizard. I could handle Marcone being a pain in my ass for a while if it meant I got my magic back.

The crinkled corners of Marcone’s eyes became more pronounced and his lips twitched up. He was enjoying this way too much.

“A faerie curse, okay!” I snapped. I crossed my arms and glowered at Marcone.

“Have you managed to upset the Queen of Winter?” Marcone asked, the amusement smoothed out of his face.

“No,” I sighed. “I‘ve been cursed by the Leanansidhe. She’s my fairy godmother.”

That information earned me another choked noise from Hendricks. I shot him an annoyed look. “What? A lot of people have godmothers. Mine just happens to be one of the fae, okay.”

“I was not aware that you had fairy godmother,” Marcone said, sounding absolutely fascinated.

“You don‘t know everything about my life,” I pointed out.

“No,” Marcone agreed. “I haven‘t been able to uncover everything. Yet.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. And I couldn’t help but wonder at that odd low undertone to his words. How much _had_ Marcone found out about me? I took a deep breath and once again throttled my impulse to shout. I also ignored the corner of my mind that noted how incredibly flammable everything looked and whispered that just because I couldn’t use magic that didn’t mean that I couldn’t use fire. I wasn’t a pyromaniac, no matter how many burned down buildings I had attributed to my name.

“Exactly what has your fairy godmother done to you?” Marcone asked, and he looked more amused than I’ve ever seen him.

I grimaced. I’d known that Marcone would want to know exactly what was wrong. I’d been hoping he wouldn‘t ask. I know, I know. Apparently I haven’t gotten all the optimism beaten out me yet.

“It involves my magic, okay,” I finally said. “Helping me break it wouldn‘t do anything to you. I swear.”

“Interesting. So… if I did you this favor, what would I get in return?” Marcone asked, his expression back to being cool and assessing.

“I don‘t know, John,” I said sarcastically. “How about you count it towards me pulling your ass out of the fire with the Denarians?”

“If we are going to be keeping count of how often we save each other’s lives, I‘m certain the scales tips more in my favor,” Marcone said, dryly.

I ground my teeth and took a deep breath. “Fine… what do you want?” The sharp smile curling up Marcone’s lips made me tack on, “Within reason!”

“Then I don‘t suppose getting you to work for me would be on the table?” asked Marcone.

“No!” I snapped. “No way!” I kept my expression firm with my denial and tried to keep the sinking feeling in my stomach from showing on my face. If Marcone really wanted to rope me into working for him… I don’t know if I could resist for long, if it meant I got my magic back. It wasn’t like I had many options. Bob and I had talked about it for hours. Marcone was pretty much it.

Marcone still looked amused. “Very well. I didn‘t think it was likely that you would say yes to such a proposition.”

“Then why did you ask?” I growled, growing more and more frustrated with Marcone’s games. After all theses years that we’ve known each other, Marcone knew how I’d react to his question so he had no reason to ask. Unless, he was trying to gauge the level of my desperation. Hell, considering I’d shown up here, I’d say I was already showing I was pretty desperate.

“It was just an idle thought,” said Marcone. His head tilted slightly to the side. “How about you allow me to address by your first name without protest?”

I scowled and bit back my reflexive denial. I really hated when Marcone used my name. He wasn’t a friend of mine and I sure as hell didn’t want anyone to start thinking that he was. Dammit!

“Fine,” I said, after a long minute. Being able to tell Marcone to stop calling me Harry was one of my few pleasures when I had to deal with him. The idea of letting him get away with it made me want to sulk like a teenager grounded on a Friday night.

“Then it‘s a deal,” said Marcone with a nod. “I will pick you up from your apartment at eight o‘clock.”

“Eight o‘clock,” I repeated, like an idiot.

“It is the traditional time to begin a date,” Marcone pointed out, that small smile tugging at the corners of his lips again.

I stared at him in total confusion. “What? What date?”

Marcone arched an eyebrow at me. “I don‘t consider myself to be the sort of man that kisses before a first date.”

“Are you kidding me?” I yelped.

Hendricks made that choking noise again. I had to wonder if the guy was turning blue by now, but a quick glance over my shoulder just showed he was turning the same shade of vivid red as his hair. I looked back at Marcone, whose face was serious as he stared at me.

And the sinking feeling came back into my stomach. Hell, he really wasn’t kidding.

“It is currently 4:45 pm,” said Marcone, with a look at his watch. I didn’t recognize the brand but it was bound to be as costly as the rest of his wardrobe. It made me desperately wish that my ability to kill anything electronic was still in effect. “There will plenty of time for you to get ready for our dinner. I will see you then, _Harry_.” His voice practically caressed my name.

I continued staring at him in disbelief.

“I do believe that you know the way out,” Marcone continued calmly, not even looking at me anymore. So I stood up and walked out of Marcone’s office in a daze.

“What in the hell just happened?” I demanded of the empty air once I was back in my car. The Blue Beetle remained silent. I started up my car and headed back to my apartment. I had something more frightening to face than the monsters I’d thought would be coming after me. A freaking date with Gentleman Johnny Marcone, the mob boss of organized crime in Chicago, the only vanilla mortal freeholding lord in existence and one of the deadliest men around.

I swore at myself, at Bob and especially at my fairy godmother for getting me into this mess in the first place.

A date with Marcone. Hell’s bells.  
*-*-*-*

I was feeling annoyed as I shoved my way into my apartment past the steel security door I had installed. My cat Mister, having waited for this, barreled into my legs affectionately, trying to knock me off my feet before heading outside. Mouse was awake. He greeted me with a lolled out tongue and doggy grin. I took a moment from my low grumbling about ever saving Marcone’s life to scratch the thick grey ruff behind Mouse’s neck.

“You know when I say that my life can’t get any worse?” I asked him, as I dug my fingers in deep.

Mouse looked up at me with his tail wagging away in delight.

“Bite me when I say that next time, will you?” I sighed. “Because it inevitably does.” I got a doggy lick at my fingers as I let go of Mouse. I went to make sure that his punch bowl of a food dish wasn’t empty and added more kibble when I saw it was low. Then I took him for a long walk around the neighborhood.

Once I got back, I had no more excuses and went down to my workshop subbasement to face Bob‘s leering.

“Hey! Boss, did you get some tongue-on-tongue action from Chicago‘s most eligible criminal bachelor?” asked Bob, entirely too eagerly for my peace of mind. “Oooh, did you go further? Was there humping involved? Were clothes ripped off? No, your clothes seem to be in one piece. Too bad. Come on! Spill!”

“There was no kissing,” I said flatly.

Bob made a disappointed and horrified noise. “Not at all?” he asked plaintively. “You didn’t even warrant a pity peck?”

“Calm down, your porn stack is safe,” I grunted. “He wanted a date first.”

Bob was quiet for a moment. Then he burst out laughing so hard that his skull rocked back and forth on the shelf that held him. A couple of partially melted candles actually fell off.

I glared at him.

“A date!” snickered Bob. “That‘s even better than just a getting a kiss! Oh wow, are you going to put out?”

“Bob, shut up!” I bellowed, my cheeks reddening at the suggestion. “There will be no putting out! From anyone!”

“It‘s just that you haven‘t been laid since Luccio, and you‘ve been so gun-shy since you found out she‘d been mind-whammied into it. And it‘s not like you have any other person in your Rolodex that fits the bill to break the curse,” said Bob. His laughter made his eyelights brighten even more.

I fervently wished that my magic was back so that I could blast him into pieces. “I don‘t have a Rolodex,” I said, lamely.

“I was talking about me,” Bob said cheerfully.

“You know I still have the hammer around here somewhere,” I said. I looked around. I could swear I had last seen it by Molly’s little desk only a few days ago. Now that she knew that Bob could talk, she often started conversations with him - against my advise - and she needed the use of it more than I did to keep him in line.

“Aw, Harry, don‘t be that way,” said Bob, the orange lights in his sockets dimming as he looked around nervously.

I rubbed my face with my palm. “Are you sure that there isn‘t anyone else that fits the requirements to break the curse?” I asked desperately. I had asked this question before. But I was hoping that in the hour or so since I’d left Bob would have managed to find someone else. Anyone else.

“You can‘t stand up Marcone!” gasped Bob in exaggerated horror. I couldn’t tell if he was feigning it or not. “That‘ll get you into as much trouble as this curse could. And Marcone would _really_ make it hurt. Anyway, you need your magic back before too long. It’s already been two days!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I sighed. Even if no one could see that I didn’t have my power, I had no way to earn my living without my magic. And the money from being the Eastern Regional Commander of the Wardens was still a pittance, even with the recently approved raise. I didn’t even want to consider what would happen when the call came for my help, and how many people would be hurt, when I wasn’t able to answer it. Even the fact that I hadn’t been attacked by anyone yet was more to due to luck than anything else. I couldn’t relay on that to keep working on my side forever.

Plus, I had extra responsibilities: I was Molly’s magic teacher and I was the final line of defense for the Paranet. And, if that wasn’t enough, I had rent due and two extra mouths to feed with Mouse and Mister.

“So, what are you going to wear on this date?” Bob asked eagerly, breaking me out of my gloomy thoughts. “Other than the coat, what do you have that can be considered sexy? I don‘t suppose you own a pair of leather pants? Hey, maybe you could borrow something from Thomas!”

I buried my face in my hands and groaned.


	2. Chapter 2

I paced my living room, which really didn’t take much effort as I have a very small apartment and very long legs, and waited for Marcone to show up. Mouse helped by staying out of my way, which was a neat trick for a dog that could give my car a run for its money in weight and size. Though, the Blue Beetle would beat Mouse in sheer colorfulness. Mouse was just grey and black. My car… wasn’t.

To Bob’s disappointment, I had decided to stick to my best pair of jeans and a rather nice long-sleeved, dark blue shirt that Molly had given me for Christmas last year. It wasn’t my usual style, but it was one of the nicest shirts that I owned. I had to resist the urge to go change into something less date-like more than once.

Even with me keeping one eye on my Mickey Mouse clock, I still jumped when it clicked over to 8 o’clock and someone knocked at my door.

For a knock it sounded surprisingly reluctant.

I pulled on my coat, made of point of making sure that my blasting rod was hanging inside it - hey, this was Marcone, of course I was going armed - before I opened the door with a grunt of effort. And all I saw was Hendricks standing there. The scowl was still on his face. It probably hadn‘t gone away since I’d shown up at Marcone‘s office. He was definitely grumpier than usual, which was saying something with Cujo. He was never happy to see me.

I scowled right back at him. “What? He couldn‘t come get me at the door, himself?”

Hendricks’ expression darkened, but he silently stepped aside to reveal Marcone standing behind his bigger bulk.

“Oh,” I said, stuck by how Marcone looked. These days I almost always saw him in expensive suits - or body armor - but there was a casual elegance the clothes that Marcone wore now that made those suits look downright dull. His shirt was some sort of green shiny silk blend that was tight enough to highlight the muscles of his chest. I could see the tips of his collar bones through an open button. Over the shirt was an open black leather blazer that shone as if recently polished with oil. He had on custom cut black jeans, and even his shoes were black leather.

Combined with the predatory look in Marcone’s eyes… well, you’d freeze in your tracks too. Hell’s bells, the tiger aspect of Marcone’s character was out in full force.

I reminded myself that I wasn’t the prey in this scenario. It didn’t help.

“Harry,” said Marcone, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement as I stared at him. “I trust you’re ready to go?”

I nodded mutely but didn’t move from the doorway. That’s when Mouse pressed his large canine head to the small of my back and pushed me out the door. Then he shoved it closed behind me.

Traitor.

“Okay, Marcone, let‘s get this over with,” I muttered, and patted my pockets to double check that my revolver was still there too. Yes, I was bringing a gun as well. If I’d thought I could have gotten away with bringing my staff, it would have been in my hand.

Marcone’s mouth twitched up at the corners before he led the way back to an expensive-looking town car I‘d last seen in snow miniature created by Winter Queen, Mab. Hendricks followed us with a heavy sigh. The solicitous way that Marcone held out the door for me made me narrow my eyes at him but I didn’t protest as I stepped inside. I really did want this nonsense over with as quickly as possible.

All I needed was a kiss. An unfortunately for me, I couldn’t just steal one from him. He had to kiss me voluntarily. That was the only way to break the faerie curse, at least that‘s how Bob explained it when I was trying to brainstorm a way to get out of this date. So, I had to suffer through this whatever-it-was that he was playing until he got tired of it. I just tried not to think on how Marcone had proven himself to be a lot more patient than I was when it came to this sort of waiting game. The only benefit that I could see from being stuck on this date was that the chances of getting attacked were pretty slim. Even a heavy hitter in the magical world would hesitate before going after a freeholding lord, especially one with Marcone‘s reputation and resources, even if it was to get to me.

Of course, if Marcone had just freaking kissed me already, I wouldn’t be sitting around without my magic. I took a deep breath, reminded myself that I could do this, and tried not to flinch when Marcone sat way too close to me in the car.

It said bad things about my state of mind that Hendricks glowering at me from across the seat was actually a reassuring sight. At least he still seemed to have his sanity, even if I was beginning to think that Marcone had lost his.  
*-*-*-*

I had expected Marcone to take us to any number of the restaurants he owned. And considering that Marcone owned more property than any other person or even company in Chicago, that was a lot of restaurants to pick from.

But instead he took us to Olympus. And probably not the one that you’re thinking of.

Instead of being the home of the Greek gods, Olympus was a restaurant equivalent of McAnally’s Pub. It was as much neutral territory as Mac’s humble bar, although it had been neutral territory a lot longer, since the early 1800s. Only it catered to the richer spectrum of magical practitioners and powerful inhuman beings, like the Queens of Fae, dragons, and lords and ladies of various sorts. Beings that didn‘t mind spending a couple hundred dollars on a drink. Though I bet that their beer wasn’t anywhere near as good as Mac‘s.

“If we‘re planning on splitting the bill, you better think about some place a little less likely to send me into bankruptcy, Marcone,” I said dryly, when I saw where the car had stopped. The brick building that held Olympus had survived the Great Chicago Fire and it looked like it too. Just over four stories tall, it skulked like an old piece of decrepit Americana that no one wanted to restore. That’s how its customers liked it. No casual passerby would ever stop by, and no tourist would stumble in off the streets.

I’d never been inside, and had never felt like I was missing out.

Marcone was smiling again, and it made me uneasy.

“Don‘t worry about your wallet, Harry,” he said. I had to bite my lower lip to keep from responding in a very bad way to my name. He wasn‘t a friend. He shouldn’t be using it. “Since the date was my idea, it will be my treat.”

I bit down harder- to the point that I was going to taste blood if I kept it up.

“Fine,” I said, after I could trust myself not to start swearing up a storm.

Marcone opened his door and beckoned me with a gesture. Just to be contrary, I opened up the door on my side of the car even though it meant I stepped out onto the street. Marcone’s smile actually deepened. Hendricks didn’t even bother to look at me as he opened up the driver’s side door. I blinked in surprise as Gard stepped out, bare long legs on black high-heels and a small black dress that came up to the middle of her very muscled thighs. The large double-headed axe hanging at her back was an interesting accessory choice to go with her ensemble, even if it was being carried in a glittery purse-like thing.

Hendricks’ expression looked like the kind you got when you took a baseball to the back of the head. I didn’t blame the guy. How had I not noticed Gard wearing that get-up at the wheel? I shook my head as I realized that my attention had been more on Marcone than anything else. Stupid. I needed to be more aware of what was going on around me.

“Aren’t we all too old to be double-dating?” I asked Marcone, standing next to him on the sidewalk.

“They are maintaining cover while also enjoying themselves,” he answered. “I didn’t want it too obvious that I had security on hand.” He put his hand against my back to steer me towards the entrance. I jumped away in surprise.

“Really, Harry, you act as if you’ve never gone on a date before,” he said. The smile on his face curled up just a little more, which for him was the equivalent of a full out belly laugh. His amusement at my reaction made my hackles rise. I had to take another deep breath to calm myself down.

“Not with a man,” I admitted, then I wished I hadn’t said a word.

Marcone arched his eyebrows at me. “Not even with Mr. Raith? Then I believe I have overestimated the nature of your relationship.” His eyes narrowed in contemplation, “Or maybe, merely misjudged it.”

My heart jumped and I pulled on a neutral expression. I shouldn’t have been surprised that Marcone had thought that Thomas and I were lovers. Considering the rumors going around about us, and how intent Marcone was on gathering information on me and people I knew, it would have been more surprising if he hadn’t heard them. He probably had a file somewhere with every variation that made the rounds like those from Thomas’ former customers to the police officers of SI. It was safer for Thomas if people bought _that_ particular bit of fiction than if they began to think we were related. I had too many enemies that could him against me. Even, the so called good guys, like the White Council would use him for their own purposes if they learned that he was my brother. There was a reason I kept that knowledge to only a handful of trusted individuals.

Marcone wasn’t one of them.

“No, no dates,” I said calmly. “We never went out.”

The narrowness of Marcone’s eyes became dangerous instead of contemplative. And the surge of adrenaline that it kicked into my system made my heartbeat double. Stars and stones, I wondered what had set off that look: a muted anger of the sort that he never ever showed unless someone was about to be killed.

And suddenly I was more than a little worried for my brother.

I deliberately rolled my eyes and continued, “We‘re just friends. I kept him from being homeless when he got temporarily kicked out, and now he owes me a few favors,” I kept my tone calm and tinged with annoyance. “I swear people gossip more about his sex life than anyone else I‘ve met. I don‘t see how I got roped into it.”

“Really?” murmured Marcone thoughtfully. I was glad to see the dangerous ice in his eyes thaw until it became his usual cool look. I breathed out a silent sigh of relief. My brother has enough issues to deal with right now, including getting his head on straight after being driven nearly insane. The last thing he needed in his life was Marcone.

Of course, the last thing I needed in my life was Marcone too. But here I was.

Once we entered through the inner doors of Olympus, I realized why Marcone was so intent on showing me off on his arm and why he‘d picked this place to do it. The place was packed with people. And most of them were signatories of the Unseelie Accords.

I caught sight of Maeve, the youngest Queen of Winter, leaning over close to a dragon. The same one I’d last seen at Bianca’s party before everything went to hell. There was a Raith White Court vampire, one of Thomas’ sisters, canoodling with someone wreathed in green branches that I could swear were growing out of its skin. There were several other people that I couldn’t make out, their bodies and identifying features were blurred behind low-level veils that kept out sounds. The veils looked uniform, as if they were cast by the same person, so they were probably a feature offered by the restaurant.

Accorded Neutral Territory was the place to conduct business transactions between different entities without the fear that a fight would start. And even in Chicago, for all that it was a nexus of power, there were very few places where those sort of meetings could take place.

And here I was arriving in one of the more high-profile ones with the world’s only vanilla mortal signatory of the Unseelie Accords at my side. And, even worse, his hand had returned to my back in a possessive and disturbing way, steering me past everybody. I saw more than one double-take and several blatant stares. Even through the blurred veils, I could see bodies turning to look at us.

Maeve tossed me a mocking kiss and gave Marcone a glare full of such cold contempt that was practically worthy of the Queen of Air and Darkness herself. Yikes.

That’s when it struck me _why_ Marcone had brought us here. And I was torn between fury that Marcone was using me as some sort of pawn in a power play, relief that that was all this date thing was about, and a small flutter of disappointment. Considering this was me, I choked more on the unexpected disappointment than I did anything else. In fact, I was so flustered by the thought that I didn’t even protest when Marcone pulled out a chair from the table for me. The slightly raised eyebrows at my silence did succeed in snapping my thoughts away from the panicked flailing my mind had been stuck in, though.

I grimaced at Marcone and sat pointedly in the other chair. “That kind of thing isn‘t necessary, you know. I‘m not going to be impressed.”

Marcone sat in the chair he’d moved and raised his eyebrows at me. “It is merely courtesy, Harry.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Like I believe you aren‘t enjoying it, Marcone.” I could have called him John, but it wasn’t as fun when he got to use my first name too.

“That is an unexpected benefit,” agreed Marcone, that small smile making a comeback.

I harrumped at him and was still scowling when the waitress arrived to take our orders. She didn’t have menus. Clearly it was that sort of place. I ordered steak. A big one with a heaping side of potatoes. What can I say, I’m a carnivore with simple tastes. Marcone ordered pastitso with a salad. He was really embracing the Greek theme.

Bored, I gave our surroundings another look. Gard and Hendricks had chosen a nearby table. At first glance, they looked to be absorbed in each other. But when I looked at them more closely, I could see them taking turns to scan their surroundings, doing so with such casual ease that if I hadn’t already known they were here for security reasons, I wouldn’t have guessed it. Nearly everyone else in Olympus had gone back to conducting their business. In fact, the only one that surprised me with the dark looks she’d occasionally toss at Marcone’s and my direction was the Raith sister.

Well. That was interesting.

I waited until the waitress had vanished back to the kitchens before I touched the central sigil carved into the middle of the wooden table. A low-level veil rose up around the table. I could see perfectly clearly through it, but no one outside it would be able to look in with clear details. Huh. That was different. I made a mental note to ask Bob if the grasshopper could learn this kind of veil.

My actions made Hendricks straighten in alarm until Gard touched his large hand lightly. He relaxed again, but the look in his eyes made it clear that I would be getting more than one angry growl from him later.

Well, at least he didn’t bite.

“Okay, seriously, what’s the real reason you wanted me here?’” I demanded.

“Harry, you’re the one who showed up in my office asking me for a favor,” Marcone said reasonably, completely ignoring my question.

I sighed in irritation. I hadn’t really thought that I’d get a straight answer from Marcone. Which why I was honestly taken aback when he continued speaking.

“Since my inclusion into the Accords, my people and properties have faced a number of subtle magical attacks. Attacks that were more geared towards testing my defenses than causing any real damage, at least at first. Then, after eight months, the frequency of the attacks increased, growing steadily more violent and resulting in several injuries among my employees. At least until the Denarians returned to Chicago,” he added coolly.

I breathed in sharply. I hadn’t heard about any of this. And I couldn’t help but wonder who would be stupid, or powerful, enough to launch such attacks on Marcone. He got seriously pissed off when his people were hurt.

“What does that have to do with _this_ ,” I asked, baffled, and gestured at the rest of the restaurant.

“Whomever or whatever was behind the attacks ceased just a few days after my return,” said Marcone. “It took them several weeks before they began again. And just as before, they started off tentatively and have become more forceful.”

I stared at him. I didn’t understand… but then I did. Here I’d been thinking that I was some sort of pawn in a power play that Marcone was running. That he’d come up with a way to use my presence at this place to gain more power, more status. It hadn’t once occured to me that _I_ was the power play: that showing up with me at his side in this place was all that he needed to do to get what he wanted. To scare off whoever was launching those attacks.

“They aren’t attacking you because they think we were allies,” I said slowly. 

Marcone inclined his head in agreement. “I believe that they don‘t want to attract your attention. And since so much time had lapsed since the last time we interacted in public, they probably concluded that our alliance was not as strong as they had previously thought.” 

“What alliance?” I snorted with derision. “We have no alliance.” 

"No, we don‘t,” he said, his eyes intent upon mine. “But even powerful beings see only what they want to see.” Then he gestured widely enough that it would be visible through the blurring effects of the veil and picked up my hand. It would look to anyone glancing in our direction as if we were holding hands. 

I instantly tried to reclaim my hand, but he clamped down tight. I reminded myself that I still had a kiss to collect and barely suppressed the urge to go for my gun. The blasting rod would have been my first weapon of choice, but I still had no magic. Then I rethought. It would make a _great_ truncheon. 

“But now we have witnesses that think we’re something more,” Marcone continued.

I scowled at him, then at his hand on my wrist, and then back up at him. “I hate it when rumors go around about us being connected,” I grumbled. “No matter how much soap I use, I still feel dirty and scummy.”

The sharp glint in Marcone’s eyes made me tug again at my hand. Marcone’s own hand tightened and I could see the scars on his knuckles pop out as his skin whitened from the strength of his grip. I was going to have an interesting set of finger shaped bruises if this kept up.

“Stars, Marcone, that hand has had enough bad things happen to it. Let. Me. Go,” I gritted through my teeth, my wrist aching.

Marcone didn’t react, just touched the sigil at the center and brought down the veil. I saw the reason for his action was the approach of the waitress who‘d taken our orders. She walked up to our table with a large tray balanced on her hands. Marcone took advantage of my distraction due to the approaching food and pulled my captured hand close enough to drop a light, dry kiss on the back on the still scarred skin before he finally let me escape. My stomach flipped and I noticed the waitress’ eyes flicker. But she was a professional and showed no other reaction.

I, on the other hand, barely kept from exploding.

Why had I thought it was a good idea to not wear my glove? I usually kept my scarred up hand covered up to both protect it and keep people from being grossed out by how it looked. A glove kept the scars out of sight but I had decided not wear it tonight since I didn’t care if Marcone was disgusted by burned and waxy skin. I regretted my decision. It would have kept me from getting Marcone germs all over me. I grimaced and grabbed the linen napkin that the waitress had set down earlier and furiously rubbed it over the back of my hand. Even with the scarring on the skin my hand felt weirdly tingly from the touch of Marcone’s lips.

“Was that really necessary?” I asked, irritated. I really didn’t care that the waitress was shamelessly eavesdropping.

Marcone gave her a flat look and she scurried away.

“Yes,” Marcone finally answered. He gave the surroundings a smooth glance. No doubt checking to see how people had reacted to his little display.

I could feel that the weight of attention on us had increased. Well, it looked like the bastard had gotten what he wanted. I muttered threats under my breath but was soon thoroughly distracted by the delicious scent of my steak. My stomach growled at me to feed it. Considering that I couldn’t shoot Marcone like I wanted to, I listened to my gut.

As I chewed on a mouthful of steak that was actually better than Mac could make, which I hadn’t thought was possible, I found myself thinking about this mysterious attacker that who going after Marcone. While I didn’t care too much if the man was in danger, I was rather intrigued that whoever it was that was making such a point of keeping me out of it. Why?

It was baffling. Usually those who threw magic around as a threat didn’t really care if I found out what was going on. Okay, yes, they usually tried to keep me out of it, threatend to kill me to get me to back off, or tried to subvert me to join their side, but that was after they had already made enough obvious waves that the situation caught my attention. The Dark Side forces normally didn’t care that I would find out what was going on when they came to Chicago to make trouble. Or they wouldn‘t come to my city in the first place. And it seemed like this guy really, really wanted me to not know what he was up to.

Well cue me becoming curious for my attention was well and truly caught.

I looked up from my plate and saw that Marcone was looking at me a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. My own eyes narrowed. Hell, I was doing exactly what Marcone wanted. I’d gone and got interested in his problem. Exactly how many plans was he running here? He was using my presence by his side to send a message to the magical world at large, and he’d taken advantage of having my attention to bring up trouble he was facing, and who knew what other plots he had hatched out in that head of his.

Dammit.

And the worst thing? The absolutely worst thing? Was that even knowing what he was doing, it wouldn’t change how I felt. I would end up getting involved, because while I might not care if any of his criminal thugs got hurt, not everyone who worked for Marcone was the lowest of scum. I thought about the girls who worked at Executive Priority. Yeah, they weren’t innocents, but under no circumstances were they evil. They didn’t deserve to be killed by a monster going after their boss. And they weren’t the only ones who were in Marcone’s pay who fell in the same kind of category. I couldn’t sit back and do nothing knowing that those people could be hurt.

I looked up from my steak and caught Marcone’s eyes again. “I‘ll see what I can turn up,” I told him reluctantly.

The satisfied light in his pale green eyes made me scowl and viciously stab at my steak. That I was picturing the meat as his face was totally mature and adult. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.  
*-*-*-*

After the meal, which I had capped off with a light beer that really wasn’t up to par when compared to Mac’s microbrew, even if they served it to me cold, Marcone told me we were going dancing.

This hell was never going to end.

“All I need is a kiss,” I complained when we were back in the town car. I was sprawled out in the seat across from Marcone, deliberately trying to take up space with my long arms and legs to keep him from sitting next to me.

Hendricks had apparently had been convinced that I wasn’t going to kill Marcone in a fit of pique and had joined Gard up front. Or maybe the guy was just too enamored of his date to let her out of his sight. I didn’t blame him for wanting to sit next to her. I understood Hendricks’ motivations alright, but I admit I was baffled by Marcone‘s. Why didn’t he just kiss me and let me go home already? I couldn’t figure it out. I was sure he’d gotten what he wanted so there was no reason to drag out our time together. At least none that I could see.

“I‘ve already been beered and dined,” I continued, waving the beer bottle I’d snatched from the table. I’d decided I needed more alcohol if I was going to spend more time with Marcone. “You got us seen together in public without me being too insulting or calling you names. What more do you want?” I groaned. “Come on, already.”

Marcone looked entirely too amused by my grousing. “Have you considered, Harry, that I am enjoying the presence of your company?” he asked lightly.

I stared at him for a moment before I shook my head and laughed. “No,” I said. “No, I don‘t believe it.”

I know I’ve said such it before, but Marcone is freakishly fast for a man of his height and size. Hell, he’s so fast it‘s practically superhuman, and if I didn‘t already know he was a purely vanilla mortal I‘d be wondering about his bloodlines. So when he lunged at me, I was caught completely off guard.

I dropped my half-empty beer onto the car floor as I raised my arms in belated self-defense. But Marcone slid right past my attempted block and pressed his weight against my upper thighs, holding me in place. His hands put a lot of his weight on my shoulders, forcing me back against the seat.

All that and he managed not to smack his head against the roof of the town car. I would have been impressed if I hadn’t been busy letting loose a manly yelp of surprise. It was not a girly shriek of fear, no matter what it sounded like.

Marcone hovered over me. The satisfied look he wore at my reaction promptly made me scowl darkly at him.

“What‘s wrong with you?” I complained, trying to shift away from him. I couldn‘t move. Marcone has a lot more muscle than me, even if I have more than half a foot in height on him so considering muscle is dense, he’s heavy. “You know, other than the blatantly obvious.”

“You’re the one that was impatient about being kissed, Harry,” Marcone said, his face as calm and cool as his voice. Except for the intense look in his eyes, he could have been conducting a dull meeting about tax codes or having an enemy killed. That was just Marcone.

“I didn‘t mean for you to jump me,” I protested, and tried to shove him off with a firm push against his chest. A small part of my mind was distracted by the smooth feel of his shirt and an even bigger part by the amount of muscle definition under that shirt.

Um, make that a _lot_ more bulked up than me. I guess he worked out.

I swallowed down and pushed harder. Marcone resisted me for a moment before he slid off my lap in a move that was entirely too smooth and graceful to believe. If I’d tried that I would have gotten tangled up in my duster and hit the floor with my face. And my face would not have won that particular fight.

I eyed him warily as he settled himself next to me. He left his right arm against the backseat so that if I rested my head back too far I would be leaning against him. Oh, that was just sneaky and way too much.

“What do you want from me, Marcone?” I asked, frustrated, even as I tried to make space between us. “You got what you wanted. Just kiss me so that I can go home already.” Stars, I was never going to recover from having to say those words. Never ever.

Marcone kept eyeing me coolly, no doubt weighing the benefits of giving in to my demand versus continuing with whatever else he had planned.

“I want you to call me John,” he said.

I snorted derisively. That made me even less inclined to want to call him by his first name.

“Or maybe I want to show you such a good time tonight that I can garner a second date,” he continued calmly.

I stared at him, my jaws somewhere around my knees. Then my stomach did a flip of nervousness as the seriousness of his tone sunk in. …And then I remembered my own disappointment at the restaurant when I’d realized what he’d been up to, that I hadn’t been on a date for a date’s sake. And now he had said he wanted another.

For once, Marcone didn’t look amused at my surprised silence. He patiently waited for me to process his words.

“No, Marcone,” I said, after turning the idea over in my head. “Not if you just want to make it seem like we‘re allies.” I don’t like being used. I don’t react well when people try. That’s usually when the amount of property damage around me went up.

My response made Marcone‘s expression change from calm to impatient. “Harry, if that was all I wanted I wouldn‘t have had dinner with you.” His eyes were cold, little more than chips of green-tinged ice. “There are easier ways to make it seem as if I have you under my control than to take you out as my date on neutral ground.”

I looked away from him because he was right.

And again that memory of my odd disappointment sprung to mind…. Stars and stones, I was actually considering it. What was wrong with me? I had to be suffering some sort of delirium from magic withdrawal. I shook my head, although whether it was to clear my thoughts or in denial or a mix of the two I couldn’t say.

“I don‘t trust you,” I said flatly, when I could look at him again.

“Really? Then why did you come to me when you had no access to your magic?” Marcone asked. He leaned closer to me.

I barely suppressed my flinch. How had he known what my godmother‘s curse had done to me? I had deliberately remained vague.

Marcone acknowledged my reaction with a flick of his eyes. He stilled his approach.

“I‘m not defenseless,” I said, glowering. I shifted in place and felt the reassuring weight of my gun and blasting rod in my coat.

“No, that is something I would never accuse you of being.”

I frowned at him, I then asked warily, “And since I said no, are you going to back out on our deal?”

If he did… I would eventually get so desperate I’d agree to whatever he wanted to get my magic back. It wouldn’t be in a day, or even a week, maybe not even a month. But eventually I‘d break. And Marcone was fully capable of waiting me out, no matter how much time it took. He had nothing to lose,… and I had everything.

Marcone’s expression remained calm just long enough to make me nervous before he slowly shook his head. “No. I‘ll honor our deal.”

I barely kept in my sigh of relief. It was odd, but I trusted Marcone’s promise. As my muscles in my back slowly relaxed, I realized how incredibly tense I’d been waiting for that answer.

“If fact, I can fulfill it now,” he continued. He put his hand on my jaw.

I blinked at him and stomped fiercely on my survival instincts, that were all shouting at me to get the hell away from him.

“Okay,” I said, my voice higher than usual. My stomach flipped. I cleared my throat to get back my usual register. “What are you waiting for?”

The flare of amusement brightened the green in his eyes. He held my face between his hands and kissed me.

Unlike the last couple of time he’d touched me, he was gentle. Surprisingly gentle, as if he thought I would get scared off if he pushed too hard. Which would have made me snort if I wasn’t actually appreciating the slow approach. I’d never been kissed by a man before.

CPR doesn’t count.

I felt the first brush of his lips at the left corner of my mouth, and he slowly slid along to the right corner. Then he swiped the tip of his tongue against my lips. The tingle I had felt against my hand at the restaurant came back a hundred fold, spreading from my mouth to the rest of my body. I gasped against his mouth. I could feel some sort of barrier deep inside me break away with an almost audible crack. Energy and warmth flooded my limbs. And some part me of that had been hunched in, cold and desperate and tense, uncurled and stretched out into the heat.

Marcone pressed in closer to me as I relaxed. His mouth became firmer against mine, his tongue was bolder as he tasted my mouth.

I was distracted from the feeling my magic returning by Marcone’s mouth. There really wasn’t any difference between this kiss and the ones I’ve shared with women in the past. The skin of his jaw was a bit rougher, his weight was heavier, but he smelled good and he was human-warm. And even better, he wasn’t trying to kill me or using the kiss to control my mind.

Bob had been right. I’d been avoiding hints from women to take them out on dates for the last few months because of the mess that my relationship with Anastacia Luccio had turned into. I’d enjoyed being with her so much. It’d been fun, and then I’d learned that it had been fake. It had hurt so much to know that she hadn’t really wanted to be with me. That it had only happened because she’d been forced into it. I’d honestly thought I’d have someone to laugh with. Someone with whom I could enjoy the benefits of being human. Someone I could care about.

Then I’d learned the truth. She’d been compelled into dating me in order for the bad guys to keep an eye on me.

Knowing that was enough to make anyone skittish. It made _me_ downright paranoid about letting anyone get close again.

Weirdly enough, with Marcone, I didn’t have that worry. He was even more paranoid than I was. For a vanilla mortal, his protections - both magical and mundane - were impressive as hell. Anything that tried to get close enough to control him would find itself blown up or shot before it could whammy him. I could trust that he wasn’t being controlled by anyone.

His interest in me, his touch against my skin was genuine.

And that touch called out to a lonely place inside me that has been aching since I learned the truth about Luccio. No… it was older than that, since Susan left. I was tired of the people I began love leaving me. But I’ve known Marcone for over a decade now, haven’t I?

Marcone’s thumbs stroked the lines of my jaw and I shivered. I’d gotten out of the habit of being touched, and doing without for the last few months had been hurting me in ways I hadn’t realized.

Until Marcone touched me with such honest desire.

My own arousal was unexpected and hit me so hard I felt as if I had been set on fire. I groaned and my hands grasped the front of Marcone’s leather blazer. I pulled him closer, twisting in the seat to face him. He slid a thigh between my legs, making me part them or risk injuring some delicate equipment.

And when he settled against me I could feel that I wasn’t the only one getting turned on.

Even knowing he’d been enjoying himself I was still startled. When I opened my eyes I saw that Marcone’s eyes had been open the whole time. He’d been watching me, my reactions.

Marcone pulled back. “You‘re glowing.”

I looked at my hand. I _was_ glowing. My skin look like it had been lit up from the inside by a white light, giving it a mother-of-pearl shine.

“Is this a side effect of breaking the curse?” Marcone asked calmly. He didn’t move away because of the light show. If anything, he shifted so he was more comfortable against me.

“Probably,” I said. I shifted my eyes to him and swallowed. “Um.”

I saw - with what felt like a kick to my stomach and another jolt of arousal - how strongly the kiss had affected Marcone. There was a flush to his cheeks; his pupils had widened making his eyes a dark hunter green. And he stared at my mouth with such intensity I knew he wanted to kiss me again.

Nervously, I licked my lips. Marcone’s eyes followed my tongue. His gaze was a weight.

I half expected him to move towards me, but he just watched me. I had the crazy impulse to lean towards him. Instead, I looked down at my hands. It took a bit of focus, but I was able to get the weird inner light-show to stop. Slowly, my skin went back to looking like it was supposed to, nice and normal and not like I could double as a nightlight.

Marcone waited me out.

I looked up at him. I had given him enough time that he was a lot more collected. I felt a flash of disappointment.

Hell‘s bells, I liked it when Marcone was less in control. And the idea of stripping away that control really appealed to me. A lot. I gave in to my crazy impulses and leaned close enough to kiss him again. When he stiffed in surprise, I counted it as a win.

I kept the kiss a helluva lot shorter than the first.

“Next Saturday, if something doesn’t blow up in my face first, it’ll be my next day off. Only I get to pick the place.” I swallowed nervously. “Um, you were kidding about the dancing, right?”  
*-*-*-*

Fortunately for me, Marcone had been yanking my chain about going to a dance club, and he agreed to drop me off at home once he was convinced that I was serious about going on a second date. I almost thought he was going to pull out a contract and make me sign to ensure I‘d show up. Only me promising Gard that I’d show convinced him. Suspicious bastard.

So I stood outside my apartment, staring after the black limousine - wondering if I’d lost my mind - until it turned the street corner and my godmother appeared.

“My sweet godson.”

I whirled to my side turning to face the Leanansidhe. Her hair was shining red under the streetlight, and her golden eyes were lit with fierce delight. She was wearing a silver dress that glittered with black faceted gems. The dress was so long its hem was a large circular puddle around her feet.

“I’m so glad to see that you finally accepted my gift,” she said.

“Gift,” I said flatly. I stared at her and took my blasting rod out of my coat. “What gift? You took away my magic!”

She tilted her head at me in amusement. She didn’t look like she cared that the rod’s sigils glowed orange with power and wood smoke filled the air. “I merely kept you from accessing it. You never lost it entirely. How else would have accepted my gift to you, my son?”

“What gift?” I shouted, exasperated. “How was making me miserable a gift?”

Lea’s mouth widened and she inclined her head towards the street where Marcone’s town car had disappeared down.

My eyes widened as I finally understood the curse’s purpose. It had been driving me crazy, trying to figure out _why_ she’d tied up my magic with such an old fairy tale curse. But the entire goal of it had been to get me closer to Marcone. He’d been the only one who could help me break it. I had no other options. Lea made her curse so specific that the cure could only be one person. She _wanted_ to me go to Marcone and ask for a kiss.

Dammit, that’d been her plan all along.

“Stars and stones, Lea, are you playing matchmaker?” I asked, nearly dropping my blasting rod.

“It is a traditional task of a godmother,” she said, her eyes flashed with delight at my expression. Her copper-toned lips widened and she added with a satisfied purr, “I had to see my son set up with a capable protector since you refuse to let me be the one to protect you. The mortal lord will do. For now.”

I stared at her, struck by a horrible thought. “Tell me you aren‘t the one who‘s been attacking Marcone.”

“I have not launched any attack against the Baron,” she said. Her eyes danced with amusement.

I narrowed my eyes at her. The Sidhe may not lie, but that didn’t mean they weren’t damn slippery with the truth. “But you know who it is, don’t you?”

Her smile widened. Then she pulled my head down and leaned close enough to press a kiss to my forehead. It burned cold.

“If the mortal lord does not succeed in protecting you in the upcoming days, the enemies he currently faces will be nothing more than irritants compared to what I will do,” she whispered, her voice as deadly as a blade.

I shuddered. “Even though he‘s a signatory, the Baron of Chicago?” I asked warily.

“I would leave nothing standing of his freehold and no one to accept the weregild,” Lea said as she stepped back. She vanished with a low, wicked laugh that sent ice down my spine.

I shuddered again, then shook the chill off before I sighed and turned toward my apartment. That’s when I noticed, in the spot where she’d been standing, a weird spiky shell about the size of my fist. I picked it up and turned it over my hands. I frowned when I realized my godmother was dropping a not-at-all subtle hint about who really was behind Marcone’s attacks. The same ones I’d only just agreed to investigate.

“I can take care of myself, you know!” I shouted at the empty street. My voice echoed oddly into the night.

All I heard in reply was that laugh again, low and fading fast.

I tucked the shell into my duster pocket and I stomped to my apartment swearing and grumbling.

Goddamn all fairy godmothers. Why in the hell people in stories always think they’re a good idea, I will never know.

End.


End file.
